


The Crown

by scarcrow11



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Ah king au, At least I tried, Gen, I think I did crazy pretty good, I'm Bad At Tagging BTW, Insanity, King Geoff, King Gus, Lord Ray, Mad King Ryan, Magician Gavin, My First AO3 Post, Rebellion, Yandere-like gavin because why not, advisor Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4353206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarcrow11/pseuds/scarcrow11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing Jack had misjudged about the crown was that its madness would always show its face. But now… Jack is reminded of how feline insanity can be. How it may elude you and slip out of reach at every step of the way, changing into a more and more subtle form, yet still just as deadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue + The Insane Supplanter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Bloody Crown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172107) by [Parselmouth_bloodtraitor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parselmouth_bloodtraitor/pseuds/Parselmouth_bloodtraitor). 



> Initially Inspired from Parselmouth_bloodtraitor's AH King AU along with some of the inspirations she lists.
> 
> While this work is listed as finished, I will make some literary improvements every now and again, but the plot will remain the same.  
> Enjoy!

**Prologue: The Calm is Gone**

Jack could remember what it was like before the crown was made. King Geoff held a prosperous, peace-filled and loving reign for many years, largely without disaster.

Until that one fateful day… 

The crown was intended as a gift, nothing more. It was delivered by a simple man who went by the name of Gavin. He gave the King the crown as an ornate sign of King Geoff’s rule. As thanks, King Geoff made him apprentice to the court wizard. The crown was a beautiful object, but Jack sensed an unnerving, unnatural evil in it.

And sure enough, he was right. 

It was slow, but over the years Geoff became… worse, in general. He was a more possessive man, crueller, more bad-tempered in general, and his health declined drastically. The kingdom fell into ruin. There were even rumours spreading through the court that Geoff had physically abused and maybe killed his wife, Queen Griffon, who had actually suffered from a heart problem and succumbed to it recently, or so the physicians told him. Then, one day, it happened. On a late stormy night, The Mad King appeared, or as he was known then, Ryan. His silhouette against the flash of lightning that briefly illuminated the night cast a lengthy shadow, encompassing Jack and sending a shiver rattling down his spine.

He demanded the crown for himself.

“How dare you barge into my castle, making insane declarations at this time? The crown is mine and mine alone.” Geoff roared, in his usual drunken stupor.

Those were the last words he ever spoke.

Before even Michael, the king’s personal bodyguard and greatest swordsman in the kingdom could react; Ryan drew his sword, and in the next flash of lightning, lopped off the king’s head.

“The old king is dead. Long live the King.” Ryan whispered, as he sheathed his bloodied sword. King Geoff's body, severed from his head, remained paralysed in shock, with his wrinkled hands grasping the arms of his throne even in death.

 

**Chapter One: The Insane Supplanter**

Ryan. The Mad King. No-one questioned his rule, especially since he killed King Geoff. However, No-one was content, and Jack had heard rumours that someone planned to take the throne. It was a long time before they did.

In the meantime, Jack used his relatively influential position in the king’s court to make his and other’s lives easier. There were times when The Mad King went riding around town, killing everybody in sight from the streets. These days became known as ‘Murder Days’ and the only promise of safety was concealment. The Mad King spent a large amount of time with a cow he acquired from the farmers. An unhealthy amount, Jack thought. He called the cow Edgar, a name which Jack learned to despise.

Along with the entirety of the madman’s soul.

 

“I wonder if the people fear me enough.” King Ryan said one day, while musing on his throne.

“I am quite sure they do.” Jack said, with his voice trembling in fear. What did the Mad King want to do next?

“Do they, Jack? Do they?” He asked, in a voice so solemn Jack’s blood turned icy cold.

Sucking up to the King seemed like the only way to continue this conversation and live. “Shall I get your steed ready?” Jack asked, hoping that some shred of decency was left in the madman’s soul.

“No, I think I’ll spend the day with Edgar. You’re free to go and do what you like for today.”

Thank god, Jack thought. He couldn’t put up with him any longer, and went to check on the town. He had a plan and was determined to see it through this time, even though it put him in mortal danger. He would join the rebels as an informant.

He silently thanked the fact that he was in near-peak physical condition, as the path to the rebel’s city hideout was a dangerous parkour route, ending in a dank alleyway. “These guys know what they’re doing,” Jack mumbled to himself, as he saw the numerous hidden security measures that only a few people outside of the castle knew of. When he walked inside, he got the shock of his life when he saw Michael, the King’s General, and Ray, the Lord of the farming regions, standing over a map of the kingdoms.

“What are you doing here?” Michael growled, looking up from a plan of the city with Ray. Jack was not prepared for this.

“I…I wanted to join you guys. As an informant, I mean. Practically no-one can get closer to the King than I.” Jack was back on his familiar ground, he had planned his responses for these types of questions.

“How did you know this place was here? Did someone tell you?” Michael leafed through a small book, stopping on a page. “C…Castle. Anyone of these guys tell you?” Michael said, pointing at pictures of several servants in the castle.

“No, I figured it out. There is a point where stuff gets too big to hide.” Jack replied.

“And how can we know you can be trusted?” Ray asked, with an interrogative tone to his voice. Clearly he didn't like him here.

“Does anyone need to be trusted here? King Ryan is a madman, and even I am aware of that!” Jack felt his tone of voice involuntarily rising, and stopped talking immediately. Why did he feel so irrationally angry?

“That’s why I need to know.” Ray paused, finding the right words to explain, and eventually stumbled out the words:

“The madness that grips the King is… infectious.”

This news hit Jack like a ton of bricks to the stomach. How could he be so blind?!

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault-” Michael tried to explain and comfort him, but it just seemed… condescending.

“Do you see why now? You’re unintentionally loose cannon. How can we truly trust you to keep it a secret?”

“I will keep this a secret from him, I promise you that.” Jack knew that if there was one thing he could do, it was keep a secret.

Ray gave a look that could be considered lethal. “Very well. I suppose you've done pretty fucking well at keeping secrets in court. I’ll let you out on trust just this once, though. I did not spend a year getting eyes and ears everywhere just to have it fall to pieces now!”

“I understand. Now what’s this map of the kingdoms for, hmm?” Jack resumed asking the questions, with new-found confidence in his voice.

“Our allies.” Ray said, pointing to the shaded areas of the map. “Our eyes and ears.” pointing towards near a hundred dots, clustered around the castle. “And lastly, weapons caches.” He said, pointing at four gold squares. “Now, can you tell us anything about the castle or the king?”

“Well…”

About the king, he told them everything he knew, including his routine, habits, schedule, and if he suspected anything about the rebels. “About the castle… nothing you don’t already know. But I can access the original architectural drawings, and check for any secret passages or inherent weaknesses. I can do that in about 3 days’ time.”

“Alright. This helps a lot. We’ll regroup… here,” Michael said as he highlighted one of the allied buildings. “In a week. By then we’ll have some more plans in place, you tell us about the castle, and we’ll review.”

 

Jack found the King in the stables, saddling his horse. When he asked him for permission to go to the vault, the King merely raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why?”

“I'm just following up on a hunch. Some of the castle is planned for expansion, checking if the building will actually hold it. Just need the castle layout.” Jack had told the partial truth, and that was a very dangerous thing. The court was full of liars, and they had all been sent to the dungeons eventually. He must have been more convincing than he felt, because the King just said “Go right ahead. I don’t need you today. Today is a murder day!”

“Thank you, Sire. I’ll let you know if anything is amiss.”

In the dark, musty vault, Jack simply hoped that there were some secret passageways or something he could find to help the rebels. And thankfully, he found something. A few side notes on wall strength here… a two-way escape tunnel there. Yes, the rebels would be very happy to see this information. When he made his exit from the castle, the screams of agony and that nightmarish laughter of the King was echoing through the streets. Jack shivered. And as he walked down the stairs, the laughter and screams seemed to crescendo before it all… stopped. Jack was vaguely aware as flames leapt ten feet in the air; an ear-splitting explosion knocked him onto his back. Something very bad had happened; Jack knew it. As he walked towards the source of the explosion, he hoped desperately that it both was and wasn't the King, but in vain. He rounded the corner to find a scorched ruin of a street, and the King dusting himself off.

“Oh. Good afternoon, Jack. Some rebels tried to blow me up. I'm fine; but…” Ryan turned to face a group of ten people in rags bravely holding weapons towards him. “You guys are fucked.”

“Come Sire, you should rest.” Jack helped him up and back to the castle infirmary. He had to leave him there. He needed answers.

 

“No, it wasn't us. Someone else decided to do this,” Ray repeated himself, but still didn't manage to quell the fury in Jack’s heart. He punched Ray again, and he slumped to the ground in a coughing fit. 6 dead and 50 wounded by the explosion. “I swear.”

“Jack, stop trying to kill Ray and come here.” Michael walked in and pondered over the map. “How long would it take to get to the Podcast Kingdom?”

“At least a good day’s ride. Why?” Jack wondered why Michael, of all people, was considering if this had anything to do King Gus the Talkative or Prince Burnie.

“Because I asked the prisoners before they were killed, guess where they said they were from.” Michael replied.

That caught Jack’s attention. “You mean-”

“Yep. We’re at war. Unofficially, of course.”

“Are you sure about this? If we retaliate, we could be screwed. What if they lied?” Ray slowly got to his feet.

“I didn’t think of that.” Michael was rethinking his plan of attack. “How about this: Jack, go and talk to King Gus. If I go, and it is in fact war, I’m probably not coming back alive. He doesn’t even know who Ray is, so you’re our best shot.”

“What should I even say? Hi King Gus, some people in our kingdom caused some civil unrest by trying to blow up our king and said that you sent them. Did you?” Jack replied in the most sarcastic tone he could muster. But Michael and Ray had stopped listening at the words ‘civil unrest’. “What? You seriously expect me to say that?”

“No, no.” Michael said as he waved his hand dismissively. “Ray and I asked the podcast king if he could help create some civil unrest in our kingdom, maybe start a revolution or something. Later I said we didn’t need it, but he must not have heeded that message.”

“So I guess I don’t have to talk to King Gus?” Jack asked tentatively.

“No, you don’t have to.” Michael confirmed.

“Good. So, what’s the plan?”

“Currently, four different plans, but If you can point out any problems with each plan’s ‘ifs’, about the castle, then that might narrow it down,” Ray rubbed his chest with one hand where Jack had punched him, and pointed to a line of the same plans of the castle, with different notes, arrows, and steps written on each with the other.

Jack strode over to the plans. As he looked over the first plan, he immediately saw a flaw.

“This says catapults, right? You won’t get them anywhere near the castle without someone raising the alarm and then you’re finished.”

The second one was more thought out. Explosives would be rigged to blow simultaneously on the Main gate and the North-West tower. Rebels would then swarm these two entry points and overwhelm the remaining loyal guards through sheer numbers and kill the king, then take the throne.

“One small problem: How will we conceal the explosives?” Jack asked Michael.

“No explosives. Do you remember Gavin, the court wizard? He’s learnt a few tricks of an explosive nature for us,” Michael answered, with a hint of admiration. “My idea,” He added.

“Ok, a few improvements then. The closer the explosions are to the centre of the walls, the more effective they’ll be. Second, we may be able to bypass blowing up part of the castle. See the crypt?” Jack pointed to a small area on the east half of the north wall of the castle. “We can travel via an escape tunnel under the tomb of the Kings and enter the castle in here, next to the armoury. If you just storm the tower then the King will just try and escape through there,” Jack traced an invisible line with his finger

Ray and Michael considered this. Finally Michael spoke.

“Improved plan, everybody. Gavin can set off one explosion and open up the south-west corner. Then the majority of the rebels can flood that area. In the meantime, Jack you make sure that the King takes this escape route. Me, Ray, and a few of the better rebel warriors will intercept you and kill the king. Then I will call off the remaining guards and we’re done!”

“Except for one thing. The king will immediately have a squad of 6 guards on him from the first explosion. These guys will follow him through the tunnel. I’ll also have 4 on me. They will gladly die as meat shields for me and the king, if they must.” Jack hated criticising others, but this was life-or-death.

“We’ll deal with them. They won’t be too much trouble.” Ray said nonchalantly, as he ran his finger along his rapier.

“Ok, then. When shall we do this?” Jack asked.

“In 3 days, at 4:30p.m. Make sure to be in the escape tunnel, otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.” Michael warned.

“I understand.”

 

(3 days later)

 

The King sat upon his throne, twirling the crown around his index finger. Jack knelt before him, and informed him of the latest movements of King Gus' and Emperor Matt's armies, which appeared to be setting up a war between the two kingdoms. Specifically, who they should side with, if it came to that. Ryan simply took this without even raising an eyebrow, and instead simply said "Why are they so childish? Such trivial affairs... I could wipe them out easily if I wanted to." He could never act as calm as the king was, not while he knew what would happen in less than half an hour. Operation Throne, a name of his own devising, would be underway. The monster that took Geoff’s throne would be gone forever and… then what? Jack suddenly realised that they never discussed what would happen after all this was through. Who would claim the throne? Jack would have to talk with Michael and Ray after all this was through.

“Jack my friend; you appear to be in deep thought about something. Do you need my help with anything?” the king asked.

“No my liege. I just sort of… dozed off for a second there.” Jack didn’t want to attract attention to himself. Especially when he was this close to the plan being enacted. He glanced at his watch. 10 minutes. They ticked by very quickly, blurring together as he paid so little attention to everything around him.

 

3…2...1...

 

And then time stopped.

 

The first explosion rocked him to the core. He could barely recover before the second explosion came, but this time, he was ready for it. He held himself to the ground. A guard immediately burst into the room.

“Your majesty! We have been breached in multiple locations!” He dropped to his knees in exhaustion.

“Where have we been hit?” Jack had to say something to help.

“Twice, same spot. South-west keep is completely destroyed. Worse, armed forces have been flooding the castle through that area. We need to evacuate you, your Majesty. You too, my lord of state. There is an escape tunnel by the armoury.”

It had been a long time since Jack had been called by that title.

“Let’s go! Come on, Jack. Armed escorts for the both of us!” King Ryan was already half-running, half skipping to follow the guards. Jack began to follow him, barely keeping up.

As they arrived at the armoury, Jack caught a glimpse of a square slab of tile bigger than he was being rolled out of the way, revealing a hidden tunnel that had lain abandoned for centuries, since the first king had the castle built so long ago. The scent of history flooded from the opening.

“Fuck, how old is this tunnel?” Ryan asked, as he held his nose. “It smells like… well, old age.”

“It was built by the first ancient king, my liege; and it hasn’t been used since it was built.” Jack motioned to the king for him to go first.

“Wow, that’s old. You sure you don’t want to go first, Jack?”

“It’s alright, my liege. Honestly, I’m a little scared.”

The king gave him a look of bored disbelief, and then wordlessly began to walk into the tunnel with his ‘meat shield squad’. Jack followed suit.

 

When they were about halfway through the almost pitch-black tunnel, Jack realised how quiet it had become. Before, the guard’s calling out to each other for security echoed through the tunnel. Now there was no sound, making the tunnel feel even more eerie.

“I’ll light up this lantern now, okay?” The king asked Jack.

“Sure, I can’t see a thing anyway.”

“A little trick the wizard taught me.” The king held up the lantern and reached into it and snapped his fingers, muttering ‘ _Ignis_ ’ as he did so.

The tunnel was filled with light.

 

And then everything erupted into chaos.

 

The king screamed in shock, as all the people surrounding him and Jack were illuminated by the lantern, and they scrambled away from them, showing their lack of uniform, save for a red armband indicating who they were.

“REBELS!” The king roared. “You shall die!”

Jack scrambled away from the king to safety, as well as indicating his true allegiance. The mad king caught his eye, and the will to fight simply … evaporated from him. He crumpled to the ground, ending in a bowing position.

“Jack… not you, of all people. You liar…”

He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the king, but it didn’t stop him making one smart remark. “Lying is my job, **_your majesty_**.”

Ray and Michael rounded the corner of the tunnel as Jack got to his feet, and a sob escaped from the king’s throat. “You too, Michael? Is no-one here loyal to me?”

“No-one, you madman. And here’s your proof.” Ray took Michael’s sword and whispered in the king’s ear “This is for Edgar, that cow you stole from me.” As he raised his blade, Jack saw history. King Geoff, beheaded by Ryan.

And now, King Ryan, beheaded by Ray.

The head rolled in front of Jack and he turned away in disgust.

“So, who’s the new king?” Michael asked, as he picked up the crown.

“Don’t you challenge my authority ever again.” The new king flicked his sword, snatched the crown from Michael’s grasp, and fitted it neatly upon his bloodied head.

“The old king is dead. Long live the king.” The king said.

“Come on, now-“Michael was stopped by his own sword at his throat.

“And call off the guards.” The king continued. “I still want you as a general.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and from the looks of it, neither could Michael. He clearly hadn’t thought this part through.

 

History had repeated itself, even the one who usurped the throne took the crown for himself, and thus, his rule was doomed from the start. But no-one had made that connection… yet.


	2. The Bloody Usurper

His name was Ray. He was in charge of the kingdom’s farming duties, and Jack liked him for that since he too, enjoyed a bit of gardening. He also knew that he was incredibly angry at Ryan for taking one of the cows and calling it Edgar. In fact, Jack had heard that one of the slogans the rebels had used during Mad King’s reign to recruit people was “Free Edgar”.

But he became a different man after he wore the crown. 

King Ray was cheered down the streets following his takeover of the Mad King’s throne, but Jack simply saw it as history repeating itself. And over time, many other began to realise this too. The fondness the man carried for fencing had degraded into a desire, then a passion, then finally a desperate daily need. As his need grew, though, so did his skill. He practically emptied the castle dungeons of the people sentenced to death by Ryan simply by challenging them to a fencing match. When there were no more prisoners left, he took to the streets with his sword in a blind rage. Michael seemed to be the only man capable of matching his skill. 

Jack decided to check on the King while he slept. As he crept through the castle halls, he couldn’t help but feel he would not like what he would see. And he was right. From the king’s chambers, he could hear King Ray mumbling in his sleep.

“Red like roses… and fire… and blood.”

The very words chilled Jack’s spine. As he crept his way back to his room, he wondered if all the kings would succumb to madness like Ryan did, and now Ray was. He dismissed the idea, and hoped that one day; someone would take the throne away from this power-hungry, sword-fighting maniac.

Someday…

Before long, most of the kingdom grew accustomed to their new ruler, since most of the kingdom seemed to stay in the same condition since Ryan’s reign. The main difference that Jack noticed was that while Ryan ruled through fear indirectly, King Ray ruled through fear by example. Far too many “examples” for all the known kingdoms put together. But this opinion was never voiced to the king. For how could anyone, even he, call the man out on such a fault without ending up dead?

 

About a year and a half after Ray was crowned king, Michael died and was buried in the Tomb of Kings, under the grave of King Geoff, the man’s first king that he served. The funeral was held on a bleak day, as storm clouds rolled in ominously. It was a dark day indeed, for not only did it mark the epitome of misery inking Ray’s reign, but this day also set in motion one of the most lengthy, thought-out and devious plans Jack had ever conceived of. 

Three months later, Jack had let slip his tongue on his opinion in the wrong place. His offhand remark about the king’s fighting style led Ray to begin questioning his loyalty and belief in his methods. And it was with this, Jack briefly lost it.

“I’m sure that some people prefer the gallows to the sword, Your Majesty,” Jack replied.

“Indeed? And if they did, how would you know?”

“Well, I…”

“And if this is how you think about my methods, I dread to ask what you think of loyalty?”

“It’s not like that, your majesty. I only wish to improve the lives of as many people in the kingdom as I can,”

“Improve?! Improve on my kingdom? It is already as glorious as it can be! Perhaps you think that you could rule better than me, is that what it is?”

“Well, I’m sure I could-”

“I’ve heard enough. GUARDS!” Ray was looking more paranoid by the minute.

“Y-Yes, Sire?” The guard captain was trembling at the mention of his title.

“Escort Jack to the dungeons… immediately.”

“Y-yes, Sire. Umm… sir?”

Jack needed no further understanding. “Say no more, I’ll go quietly.”

“Alright… Sir.” and with that the guards beckoned him to follow them quickly out of the throne room.

 

“What’s the rush? I know where the dungeons are,” Jack asked the guard closest to him and the guard captain responded by beckoning Jack to be quiet again, before pushing hard on the wall which then opened a tunnel into the wall. Jack wondered where they could be taking him to.

The grim, dark passage reminded Jack of the escape passage he took with Ryan when Ray and Michael took over the throne, and he shivered at the memory. When they stopped, Jack noticed the dark figure of a bear standing in the tunnel, and the guard captain was conversing with it. 

“Welcome, Jack.”  The voice that emanated from the figure reminded him of someone, but he couldn't remember who exactly. It was a deep, throaty, and primal voice that made Jack feel that this was someone who could lead the people, a commander, someone who would see things through the end.

“Umm… Hello?” Jack wasn't sure how exactly to address a talking bear.

“There is little time. I am sure Ray will try to find you in the dungeons, looking to challenge you.”

“Pardon me, but who are you?”

“You knew me as Michael. Now… I am Mogar.”

The figure turned, and Jack realised that the figure was not a bear, but rather Michael, wearing the skin of a large bear, complete with a hood and mask made of the bear’s head. This made him look ten times more intimidating than he ever remembered Michael, but this idea of an alter ego had ended badly for many people.

He remembered how Gavin, the court wizard, had attempted to split his psyche to try and multitask, but all that had happened was that he ended up talking to himself in many different tongues, and to people who weren’t there for a month before he recovered. He still speaks like that under great stress, as his concentration is required to keep the enchant he is under to be effective.

 

‘Mogar,’ Jack said it himself, and realised that this is the name of a warrior, this is the name of a hero. “Why are you here? **How** are you here?” 

“I feigned my death. Do you remember even seeing my body in the casket?”

“No…” Jack replied.

“As for why I’m here, I’m going to take the throne from Ray. I have spent the last three months training in the forests. The guards remember me and are loyal to me. We are going to assassinate Ray in the dungeons.”

“But who will be king after this?” Jack couldn’t risk another plan like this going awry.

“Me. Now, I’m afraid that we’re still going to have to send you to the dungeons, as bait for Ray. When he challenges you, that’s when we’ll make our move.”

“Very well. But this plan seems too sneaky for you to have thought up of it yourself.” Jack said it as a statement, rather than a question.

“I know. I’m impressed with myself for thinking it up.” Michael answered proudly.

“Goodbye.” Jack said as he was escorted out of the tunnel by the guards.

****

Jack paced in his cell, waiting impatiently for King Ray. He was really hoping that he would make his death quick. The king was definitely going to kill him for his transgression earlier, but the question remained: Should he die with honour, at King Ray’s hand; or throw the match?

But he didn’t have to decide, for King Ray entered the dungeons unarmed, and stopped at Jack’s cell, letting out an exhausted sigh.

“You know I don’t want to do this, Jack.”

Jack's smart mouth had been his ruin before, but he couldn’t see how his situation could get worse than what it currently was. “Really? I had thought it had become as necessary as breathing for you.”

“Jack… I’m trying to fight the crown’s… influence. But I… I can’t anymore.”

Jack looked at him incredulously, unable to believe that the Ray he knew was still in that man, that his soul was still fighting for good. Then Jack felt something akin to sympathy and admiration of the fact that good was still left in the King, and he wondered if Ryan had ever had this side to him and that Jack had just turned a blind eye to it, concentrating on only the misdeeds he committed. As he mulled over these possibilities, Ray spoke up again.

 

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to crown you. But do not wear the crown. Destroy it. Be free of its corruption and be remembered as the King I wished I could be remembered as.”

This caught Jack’s attention. Michael had told him that he would be the next King, so what would he make of this?

As Ray reached to take off the crown from his head, Michael appeared from out of the shadows behind him. With one fell swoop, the old King’s head rolled on the mouldy floor of the dungeons.

Jack saw history. King Ryan, beheaded by Ray.

And now, King Ray, beheaded by Michael.

Michael looked at Jack with contempt. “I heard his last wish. That doesn’t change what I want to do.”

“Don’t be stupid.” The new king uttered as they both gazed upon the crown.


	3. The Righteous Assumer

Michael was known as the ruthless King, but Jack remembers him as the righteous king. Under his rule, the kingdom flourished, as an era of peace akin to Geoff’s rule began to take hold.

But unfortunately, the thought of destroying the crown was never carried out in time, and by the time Jack had remembered Ray’s last wish, Michael had succumbed to the madness that infected the previous rulers. Michael had many times when he was truly content, and fought the crown’s influence bravely, and may have even stopped the crown from truly taking over his morals. It merely seemed to increase the intensity of his normal negative behaviour. In possibly the mildest incarnation of madness ever, he was incredibly aggressive in ownership of land, expanding his kingdom beyond reasonable borders, so much so that he had to appoint lords to take control over the many cities. Jack was promoted to advisor and lives in the castle, but Gavin had been given a position along with King Michael’s childhood friends as one of the 26 dukes and duchesses of state.

Looking back, that was possibly the worst decision Michael had made in his reign.

The first to fall was a sudden surprise to Jack. 3 and a half years after Michael’s coronation; Mary, duchess of the faerie wilds, was trapped in her manor while it burned to the ground. Her charred corpse was recovered and buried in the castle crypt. No-one could determine the cause of the fire, and thus the culprit remained a mystery. Michael grieved for the loss of his childhood friend, and never felt quite the same.

The second to fall came a month later, as Frank, duke of the Mirage, the desert keep, was found in his chambers dead, with a dagger in each eye. Like Mary, he too was buried in the castle crypt. Jack had begun to wonder for the safety of the other dukes and duchesses, and if all of them would die eventually too.

 And the cycle continued, on a random day each month, one of the dukes or duchesses would be killed in a random way, and eventually only one remained: Gavin, now duke of Frostfang keep.

One night, Michael called a feast; while he still had someone to celebrate with. Out of respect, the seats were laid out for all the late dukes and duchesses that Michael had so treasured. All of them had been his childhood friends, and now Michael seemed to feel alone in the world. Jack sat solemnly by his side, and Gavin had taken his seat next to Michael and was enjoying himself without noticing the lack of all the other people.

“So Michael, this is fun, right?” Gavin said with a smile.

“…Yes. But I miss all of my friends; they should be here with me.” Michael’s face was sullen and he didn’t look up to face Gavin.

“If you’d like, I can recite their deaths, just for the sake of completion. Okay?”

“Alright,” Michael didn’t want him to, but he wanted to make someone happy today. “If you want to.”

“Alright, then. Well, alphabetically…”

“A is for Amber who drowned in a pool,  
B is for Billy was eaten by ghouls.  
C is for Curt with disease in the brain,  
D is for Daniel derailed on a train.  
E is for Eric who's buried alive,  
F is for Frank who was stabbed through the eye.  
G is for God who I have become;  
H is for Heather whose skin made a drum.”

Then a weird chanting began to sound, and with it, the seats were filled with ghostly apparitions of the late dukes and duchesses. They joined Gavin in his creepy chorus:

“One by one we bite the dust  
We kick the bucket and begin to rust  
Give up the ghost when your number's up  
We all fall down  
  
Ashes to ashes, bones to paste  
We wither away in your resting place  
Eternity in a wooden case  
We all fall down.”

Gavin began to smile psychotically as he continued his ‘poem’.

“I is for Isaac who lost his front brakes,  
J is for Johnny, was bitten by snakes.  
K is for Kimmy was shot in the head,  
L is for Larry who bled and bled.  
M's for Mary who was burned to a crisp,  
N is for Nick who was pummelled by fists.  
O is for Olive who lived life too fast,  
P is for Pat who swallowed some glass.

At each of their names being called, another seat was filled, and all of Michael’s friends joined him at the table. And all of them continued to chant:

“La-lala-lala-lala-la-la-la,  
La-lala-lala-lala-la-la-la,  
La-lala-lala-lala-la-la-la,  
La-lala-lala-lala-la-la-la.  
One by one we bite the dust,  
we kick the bucket and it begins to rust.  
Give up the ghost when your number's up.  
We all fall down.  
Ashes to ashes, bones to paste,  
We wither away in your resting place.  
Eternity in a wooden case,  
We all fall down.”

Michael was spiralling in denial, fear, and panic, for surely Gavin, the joyful former wizard didn’t kill all of his friends, did he?

But Gavin continued, apparently calling the spirits from their graves.

Q is for Quentin who took the wrong trail,  
R is for Raina who rotted in jail.  
S is for Steve who was shot by a bow,  
T is for Tory who froze in the snow.  
U is for Ulrich who was trampled by hooves,  
V is for Vanessa who fell off a roof.  
W is for Will who was hit by a car,  
X is for Xavier who sunk in the tar.  
Y is Yasmine who fell from a plane,  
Z is for Zack who sim…ply…went…insane.” 

By the time Gavin finished his poem, a sick and twisted grin covered his face, and a voice not his own moved his lips with a delay, like some horrid human puppet. The voice giggled childishly, and jovially reminisced, saying “Those were such fun times.”

Michael stared at him blankly, for how should one respond to this crazed alternate personality that inhabited the body of his best friend? Finally, after a long pause, he simply said “Who…What are you?”

“You know who I am. You made me, after all. By making your friends so important… you made me do this. I had to be your **only** friend. So I killed them. I killed them all!”

“So you killed them all. All of my friends from childhood.” Not a question, but a statement.

Gavin’s puppet-like speech became more and more synchronised with his movements, and the tone of voice became an unusually natural-sounding mix between what it normally was and the new, childish voice. And Gavin simply continued to address Michael with this messed up raison d’etre of murder.

“Yep. So… what do you think? Are you proud of me? I can be your best friend now there’s no-one else for you to waste your time with. We’ll have so much fun! Somuchfunsomuchfunsomuchfunsomuchfun.” Gavin then broke down, curling into a foetal position and kept repeating himself rapidly, over and over again. “Somuchfunsomuchfunsomuchfun…”

Michael got up out of his seat. “It’s the crown you want, isn’t it? Just ask for it. I’m tired of it whispering its dark its thoughts to me. But I will never unwillingly give it away. So just ask me for it.”

“I just want to make you happy. Did I do well?” Gavin slowly crawled back to his feet.

“No, you didn’t, Gavin. Killing my friends… that’s really fucked up.”

“Well then… If I didn’t please you, then I guess there’s no reason for me to exist,” Gavin pulled out a pistol, set it on his lower jaw and aimed it up. “Goodbye, Michael.”

“Gavin… give me the gun,” Michael was now very scared, and realised that one of them would die today. “You don’t want to do this.”

“…You’re right. I don’t want to die. So you must instead.” With inhuman reflexes, he spun the gun around, shot his friend in the head, unsheathed his sword and beheaded the King. His head simply landed upside down with the crown still on. As his blood flowed, it stained the crown a rich red.

Jack was promptly reminded how much blood the crown had seen, how the frail, headless body of King Geoff stayed stuck to the throne even in death, the soft thud that King Ryan’s headless corpse made as it hit the floor of the Tomb of Kings, King Ray’s forgiving stare, so out of place in the cruel dungeons, that his severed head made at Jack when it stopped rolling. And now, with King Michael, and the fountains of blood that flowed gently from his wounds. Jack now he realised how the crown carried its own curse, besides madness; one that rules death follow the kings like their own shadows.

Something in Gavin’s eyes changed, and he seemed to return to normal, back to the Gavin Jack knew from Geoff’s reign, for a few brief moments.

For the last time.

“W  h at… h a   ve I  don e?” As he stared at his handiwork, his face shifted rapidly between a gleeful expression and a sorrowful and confused look of shock, until something in him snapped, and he broke down and began sobbing.

“The old king is dead. Long live the King.” The childish voice was back again, with a hint of mocking to its voice.

“Thisis what you wanted, isn’t it?” a deep voice now emanated from Gavin as he twisted and convulsed on the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream. It seemed to ebb and flow as it spoke, changing from a whisper to a shout.

“Nonononononononono, ” Rocking back and forth, he repeated denying this to himself like a mantra, “Why me? Why did I do this?”

“Because he had to be our only friend… He would understand… If he didn’t… Then he would die too.” The deeper voice reassured him.

“But I didn’t want to kill him. If I did, then I become king. I don’t want to be King!” Arguing with the voice in his head, Gavin stared at the crown, and his expression changed. “Riches beyond dreams... Command millions… Above the law… Supreme leader… All mine… Just one thing remains…” The crown seemed to speak directly to Gavin, whispering its dark and empty promises unto him, and Gavin thought that maybe, just maybe, this could be his one chance of escape, of respite.

And with that, Gavin's mind was gone. With blank eyes he mechanically moved the crown from Michael’s grasp and fitted it upon his own head. Jack noticed how easily it fit on his head, like it was made for him. His hair had also seemed to have flattened at the point the crown touched his head already. Could he have practiced this before?

“Jack… The old king is dead. Long live the King.” Gavin’s posture straightened, his hunched shoulders broadened, and his voice deepened to that of a proper King.

A lunatic… on a throne cursed with madness… such a combination could not have gone worse, Jack thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment about them if you can see the references in chapter 3 to...  
> "A gorey demise" by Creature Feature.  
> Towerfall ascension lore.


	4. Chapter Four: The Foolish Ringleader

Jack could not tell the people the truth of how Michael had died. Instead, the story was that he had an old battle wound that got very badly infected and decided to make Gavin king if he died.

 Gavin. What could be said of his rule? Jack had simply no words to explain it, but his own madness, combined with the crown’s curse became both a stable sanity and a rampaging lunacy, both in the one soul, as different and yet, as closely linked as two sides of the same coin.

Jack very quickly learned which side was which, and how easily interchangeable they were. Yet while Gavin tried to forget what he had done, he never cleaned the crown of the faint gold-glowing blood that stained it. Perhaps, Jack thought, this grieving was what kept his insanity in check; and since that was the most desirable outcome at this point, Jack never pushed the subject.

But such partial perfection masked the horrors of his mind. Each night, Jack heard Gavin sobbing in his chambers next to Jack’s, screaming “Why ME! Why am I king? I didn’t want to be king but Michael didn’t like me anymore and so I have to… I had to… WHY DID I DO THIS?!”

Gavin fell unconscious after screaming his lungs out for 10 minutes or so, and finally Jack could get some sleep. His dreams weren’t much better though. He worried at how the kingdom could fall, how much land Michael had conquered so quickly; and how it could just as quickly be thrown into disarray.

Though they called him ‘Foolish King’ in the shadows, many people were fearful of King Gavin when he paraded out in the streets. His smirk struck a chord with the people, and in it was something Jack did not recognize. His true face smiled viciously, and something about the devilish smile and the wicked ease with which Gavin held himself set Jack’s teeth on edge as he watched him greet the people, and in those moments, no one seemed to think of Gavin as a fool. As they laughed and cheered, he seemed genuinely pleased to wave and smile back.

Perhaps this happiness might have been enough to sate him, for he never desired to kill the peasants, rather than the first two kings.

When Jack learned what he truly did to them, he wished Gavin had killed them a thousand times over instead.

Wandering along the castle one day, Jack thought he heard a moan of despair coming from one of the doors. Being the curious type, he proceeded to take a look at what made the noise.

Inside the doorway was the King’s handiwork. A medium-sized room had been adorned with blood and bodies chained to the walls, a few of which were just barely alive.

“Help us…please…” one of the prisoners mumbled to Jack. He hung, lifeless and limp from his chains and Jack realised that he had no wounds. He was simply starving to death. This was also the case of the others. If that was the case, whose blood decorated the walls in a sadistic writing? A very faint, gold glow emanated from it. It must have been Michael’s warrior blood. “But how,” Jack thought, “Michael’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Indeed he is.” A cold smooth voice alerted Jack to another person’s presence.

Jack spun round, and to his surprise was met by the King’s cold glare and nervous, toothed grin. This was not the boy become king, this is not the fool, that Jack remembered advising. Here, in his ‘room’, Gavin stared at him menacingly.

“Gavin, what is this place? These people need help. They need food. Sire, we must help them.” Jack told him rapidly, but Gavin held up his palm in response.

“I know, but you have it wrong. None of them ever accepted me as their king. They needed help to accept me, so I helped them. They needed food, so I cooked for them.” As Gavin said this, he pointed to the base of the chains where someone was held. At this prisoner’s feet was a bowl of soup, long since stone cold.

“And when others found them, they ran away. I had to help them too. They had to be taught a lesson. That curiosity does indeed kill the cat.”

“Sire, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to go and help them.” Jack began unhooking the chains from the wall, and Gavin looked at him pleadingly.

“Jack… You’re a good person. Are you going to run away too?”

“After seeing this sire, I certain you’re insane. So yes, I’m going to run.”

“Ahh, but you’re mistaken. This is not insanity. This is who I really am! But it’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone. So… I’m going to have to make sure you can’t leave, to make sure you don’t tell anyone.” He spoke with the clear, methodical lucidity befitting madmen who have long since escaped the confines of reason and reality. Moving ever so quietly, Gavin positioned himself a step behind Jack. He silently unsheathed his sword, holding it at the ready. All it would take was one. single. slice.

The one thing Jack had misjudged about the crown was that its madness would always show its face. But now… Jack is reminded of how feline insanity can be. How it may elude you and slip out of reach at every step of the way, changing into a more and more subtle form, yet still just as deadly.

The first person is still stuck in his chains as Jack’s head rolls and bounces off him. It hits the floor with a sickening thud. He turns away and shudders in disgust and despair, for now there is no-one left to stop the King. No-one is left to reason with the King.

“I’m going to die here. We’re all going to die.”

**Author's Note:**

> No-one can stop this vicious, sadistic and confident king, risen from the depths of his greatest fears. With a soul as black as night, shattered into a million pieces; he pleads with the devil himself for release from this madness. Welcome to the King's life.
> 
> (Apologies for any stupid spelling mistakes in some places, but large-scale copy and pasting from a word document is rather error prone for some reason.)


End file.
